Better Left Unsaid
by SinceILeftYou
Summary: FSherrus. Get into the heads of our favourite Saviour of the Galaxy and her Turian. Follows the events through ME2, keeping loyal to ingame conversation with just a lil' bit of poetic license thrown in for good measure. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

**A/N: Well, other fanfic projects aren't going too great, so I've just been writing a few one-off oneshots as a sideline; this is actually something I wrote as a prologue to an idea which has been rattling around in my head in order to give a feel as to where that idea might actually be going.  
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**R&R this. R&R my other work(s; hopefully sometime in the near future). It's the positive and constructive comments which keep me going :)**

**I own nothing. Bioware owns everything. Even your immortal souls.**

* * *

PROLOGUE

Despite the rocket which he somehow managed to miraculously dodge and - even though his hands were shaking profusely – the near perfect headshot he landed, Archangel knew he was screwed.

He threw a quick glance over to the door of his apartment which had started clanging mysteriously. The adrenaline was flowing through his veins, heightening his senses; yet he knew that glance wasn't enough, already far, far more than he could afford to give. It seemed the rockets had only been a decoy so the mercs could sneak a bomb across the room without being scoped.

Well, the idiots had to use their heads eventually. He had masked that door with layers upon layers of encryption, always taking care to always change random amounts of the code whenever he had a spare moment: There was no way anyone other than a hardcore tech expert was getting through. Still, he hadn't exactly had much time to reinforce the door; if that bomb didn't obliterate it completely, brute force alone would have finished the job. That door had been a lifesaver, forcing the mercenary groups to attack from below, forcing them to play _his _game:With no door there, who knew how many men they would use to bombard him?

He didn't care; he'd already made peace with death. He turned his head slightly towards the bomb which he had installed discreetly in the corner of the room, the final precaution_. The bomb placed where Sidonis always used to stand._ If he was going to die, he was taking as many of those damn bastards with him as he could. He retook cover in order to reload his rifle. Funny, this wasn't the way he always used to imagine his death, the way in which he was always _taught_ to imagine his death rather: Ripe old age after a long career at C-Sec, surrounded by a wife, by children, by _grandchildren_. Not here. Not like this. He wanted it all to just stop, stop so he could think about those he would be rejoining; dead friends from the military, the ten good men who lay down their lives needlessly for his cause, Commander Shepard...

"THEY'RE WITH ARCHANGEL!"

Garrus snapped straight back into action, scoping the area to identify his new comrades; probably just some kids who had gotten some crazy idea into their heads about how great it was to swoop in at the final hour and be the hero.

_Hero. _The word made him feel physically sick.

The leader of the group, female, cocked her shotgun and effortlessly butchered an advancing freelancer with a blast to the face. _Shepard?_

It couldn't be. Not after so long. Not after 2 long years grieving her; long years of trying to follow her example, even longer years of trying to bring back some good into this universe. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him; seemingly endless days and nights had already merged into one, why wouldn't a ghost from the past appear to take him away from this godawful place?

A particularly large clang emitted from the door; _Shit, _the bomb. Half to hurry her up - and half to check that she was actually there - he fired a concussive shot at her: In response, Shepard threw a filthy glare in his direction.

Yes, that was Shepard alright.

The moment he locked eyes with her everything stopped making sense. He didn't know what to think; all he knew now was that he had to survive. Survive, so that he could meet his grandchildren one day. Survive, because every nerve pulsing in his body was telling him to do so. Survive, so that he could see his long lost friend, even if only for one more time. With one final lingering gaze up at him, Shepard and her team raced up out of sight to the door of the apartment. He closed his eyes; he could see her towering above her foe, body shimmering with a blue mist, a slight smirk playing on her lips; he could now hear the startled yells of the mercenaries as she greeted them, a piecing scream, a loud crash and then-

_Silence. _

He opened the door to let them in.

* * *

Reckless and idealistic, those were the words that Aria had used to describe Archangel. He held up one talon at them, a signal for her to wait. There were now only mere metres between Shepard and the masked legend.

Smart, resourceful, dangerous: That was how the head of Eclipse in Omega Jaroth had profiled him. Shepard had seen Archangel as he spectacularly evaded a rocket and fluidly moved straight into position to score a perfect headshot. The guy obviously knew what he was doing.

Garm's words: A pain in the ass. Brave. He fired off his sniper rifle at a stray freelancer who thought he could get the better of him by hiding until the fighting died down. Who the hell would shoot at the people trying to save their lives anyway?

A mystery, Jentha from the Blue Suns. Shepard didn't know who this Archangel was, nor did she particularly agree with the observations of others; she had long since made up one of her own which overruled anything she'd ever heard about him: Crazy. She eyed him wearily as he stood up, reaching for his helmet to unmask himself. Never before had she met someone insane enough to come to a shithole like this and piss off one major crime organization, let alone three-

Her thoughts were stopped straight in their tracks: Archangel was none other than Garrus Vakarian, her best friend back on the original Normandy.

"Shepard." He made no attempt to conceal how much his tired voice had aged in the past 2 years. "I thought you were dead."

* * *

**A/N: And there we have it! I can't say too much about what this will turn into to, but I can say there's going to be a lot of Garrus POV in it (scream "yey" now if you are a Garrus fan). If you read something which seems OOC or can think of a way to make it more Garrusy (pretty sure that's not a word) feel free to say it in a review or PM me (but not, obviously, for the sake of it). Also, I am beta-less, so general help with things like grammar/punctuation/writing style would be apprieciated. kthx.  
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	2. Better Left Unsaid

**A/N: (Finally) releasing this to the big scary wide world web. Sorry about being so slow; I managed to convince myself that this was a great, big blubbery mess and it subsequently sat on my hard-drive, 2/3 complete and untouched for a short(?) period of time. It also probably would have been released 3 days a go if Halo (and no, it's not Reach) hadn't been distracting me. Ahh well. **

**Feedback on this would be greatly appreciated since I'm not yet 100% in which direction this story is ultimately going to go (so if you're not into what happens down there, say it NOW rather than bitching about it 3 chapters down the line ^^) Also, help with improving grammar/punctuation/styling etc etc etc. is good _SO LONG AS IT'S CONSTRUCTIVE__. _Okey dokey, enough gushing ^^ **

* * *

She could remember it all; the heart-stopping emptiness which overwhelmed her as he was flung across the room, the voice which wasn't her own screaming his name, the need for the world to stop just so that she could beg him not to leave her life again. It didn't. Instead she had to grab the grenade launcher off of her back and give hell to the bastards responsible for this. After that time had stopped; words seeped through her worry-wracked brain, each one losing more and more meaning with each passing second...

_ "...the docs corrected it with surgical procedures and some cybernetics; best we can tell he'll have full functionality, but-". _

_"Shepard."_

Against all odds, he had stood there in that doorway; his suit had seen better days - as had his face - but he was _alive. _That was all that mattered to her. They were both in the same position; forgotten heroes with no home to go to, both owing their lives to a terrorist organization which they had hated all but 2 years ago. Part of her had expected him to disappear, leaving behind only harsh words and the bloodstains on her armour. She couldn't say she'd blame him if he did. He hadn't: he'd chosen following her to hell over trying to find some semblance of normality. She hugged her pillow, smiling to herself. She'd missed him, Archangel had scared her; his eyes were blank, only ever lighting up when one more mercenary fell to the ground. Thinking back, he hadn't even seemed overtly fazed that she was supposed to be dead; and, for a split-second, she was worried the main in the doorway would be Archangel and not Garrus...

_"Nobody would give me a mirror. How bad is it?"_

_"Hell Garrus, you were always ugly, slap some face paint on there and no-one will even notice." _

_"Some women find facial scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are Krogan." _

Relief had flooded through her: Garrus was unmistakably so much more of a hard-ass, but the endearing Turian she knew and loved was still in there. She had learnt later that, as well as exhaustion from being hounded for several days, betrayal and guilt had sapped him physically and emotionally. _Lantar Sidonis_: What kind of person was he? Was he in it for himself from the get go? If not, how did he let himself be persuaded to doing something so terrible? Did he feel any remorse whatsoever for his actions? If so, if he had seen the worn-down look on Garrus' face back on Omega, would that have been enough to make him repent? She didn't know if she cared; that bastard had sold Garrus out and ran, leaving him on Omega to die. Whatever his reasons and no matter how many times he apologized he was a coward of the lowest calibre. Garrus could have easily left Omega when his team was murdered but he hadn't: It was a man resigned to death which she had just encountered.

_"I got three separate merc bands to work together to take me down. My manager at C-Sec would be impressed." _

Screw his manager; she was damn well impressed - albeit surprised how easily he slid into the role of leader-master tactician and flourished: Who would have thought Garrus, always so eager to follow his Commanders' example, had it in him? He was right though: Had C-Sec given him the opportunity sans-red tape, he could have made a real difference to crime on the Citadel. She smiled at the memory of how his eyes had become animated and his voice excited as he described the work of his vigilante team on Omega...

_"It was simple. We'd hit their shipments, disrupt activities. Get under their skin. Make them angry. They'd come charging right into our well-prepared kill zone. Cross-fire and snipers, clean and surgical. They never stood a chance."_

_..._

_ "You prove that you get things done, and people join up. Mercs who wanted to atone. Security consultants tired of playing of playing by the rules. I gave them hope."_

_Garrus dropped his head._

_ "And now they're dead. Shows what I know."_

He blamed himself for what happened, and that blame had extinguished the fire – the hope and idealistic notions - from his eyes. She impulsively wanted to hug Garrus, tell him that everything was going to be fine, make it _right _somehow_. _She couldn't, she wouldn't.

_She shouldn't._

Seeing him today had only confirmed the creeping suspicion in her mind; something which had been true in her heart, beating or not, for almost three years...

_Besides, he's a Turian and you're a human. It not like it would ever work._

It wasn't right; what did she care if he was Human, Turian or even a goddamn Hanar? Did it make every look, every sentence; she had given him on the original Normandy a lie? She spent months trying to ignore the advances and then the hurt puppy-dog looks which Kaiden had given her. She'd stood in the elevator time and time again with grim determination to set things right, to set them _straight? _She'd cowered away at the last second, teetering herself off to the left towards Wrex as she first caught sight of him across the room. It's not like it was any use anyway; scar or not, he was handsome (by Turian standards at least), from a good family and had an impressive military background...

_So what use could he possibly have in a human? _

She rolled over onto her front and tried to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

_I guess some things are just better left unsaid.

* * *

_

Had everything not have been stamped with the Cerberus insignia – from the uniform of the all human crew to his computer – Garrus could have easily convinced himself he'd died on Omega and gone to heaven.

That and the singeing pain which erupted on his face every time he moved his right mandible or 5 minutes passed; whichever came first. He eyed his reflection off of the surface of his console. Next time he got into a fight with a gunship, he was going to damn well make sure he hid: He was already at enough of a disadvantage with half his face missing, let alone all of it. Not that he cared too much how he looked. It was the cybernetics; the no longer being 100% organic, but some weird cybernetic Cerberus Turian which was really bothered him...

_...although he wouldn't be back doing the best damn job which he'd ever landed without them either._

He thought back to his childhood on Palaven; his father was rarely there –busy with C-Sec matters, it was _always _about the C-Sec matters – but occasionally he'd take his son, daughter and wife on holiday. Luscious new planets: always brimming with sun, sea and things for him and Solana to explore together. He remembered the feeling of sitting on a beach somewhere, soaking up rays and imagining the world which he had left behind; a grey monotonous world of drudgery, a world he had been totally submersed in merely a matter of hours ago. That feeling had returned: This time yesterday he'd lived in a world where everything he, Shepard and the original SR1 crew had accounted to nothing. Shepard had saved the council and yet her name was still in the mud, he – no, not just him; him and every other being, human or otherwise, who had been on the Normandy when it exploded – had tried in vain to get the council to try to recover her body.

_"Absolutely not! A waste of resources!"_

Alenko. He had balked first. Garrus' fists clenched subconsciously. Won over by the carrot of a promotion in the military. Well _Commander_ Alenko could choke on the title she used to wear, a title which he didn't deserve. It was all in vain anyway; more of the crew began join Kaiden, distancing themselves from the Citadel and getting on with their own lives. Various crew members, Wrex, Chakwas, Tali: Only he and Joker had remained until the bitter end. He for his upstanding sense of justice; Joker for the survivor's guilt he'd held onto ever since his pod landed on that cold, distant planet and been forced to shake his head forlornly to an army of hopeful expressions. The Council had already been doing as much as they could to sweep the whole business of the Reapers under the rug; cover up stories, placing the Normandy only on low priority missions against _Geth_ of all things: Why had he acted so surprised when they refused to do the honourable thing? If anything, her death worked in their favour: She wouldn't cause a fuss when they used the Geth as a scapegoat, they could use her name however they wanted in recruitment vids without repercussions and, most irritatingly of all, they could go right on with being themselves. Nothing ever changes.

_ "Frankly I'm more worried about you. Cerberus Shepard? You remember those sick experiments they were doing?" _

Not that he was overtly thrilled with the idea of working with Cerberus; it wasn't like they were any better.

_"That's why I'm glad you're here Garrus. If I'm walking into hell, I want someone I trust at my side."_

Damn it. It seemed she still always knew what to say to get around him.

_It had only taken a split second faltering glance towards her for it all to be over; in that split second, severe burning had lapsed into stinging coldness and then into darkness. _

...!

_Through the haze which enveloped him, he could hear an angel's voice calling out to him..._

_"We're getting you out of this Garrus, just hold on..."_

No, that wasn't possible. For a start, he wasn't some human fetishist. Secondly, he was pretty sure that she isn't some Turian fetishist either. Thirdly, she was the great Commander Shepard: A woman who could have anybody she desired. What the hell could she possibly see in some failed deadbeat C-Sec Officer who thought he could be a hero for the day?

_Especially one who couldn't keep his team alive._

He thought that by throwing everything away he could make a difference in the Galaxy. He'd tried so hard to replace the good which had left the world the day Shepard died: Firstly by applying to become a Spectre, secondly by buying a one way ticket to Omega. But he'd screwed up. Badly. He should have known that not even death could stop her; just as he should have known that Sidonis was up to something. He'd tried to live up to her example and all he had achieved by doing so was the deaths of 10 good men. Some hero.

_So, what could she ever possibly ever want in you?_

He pushed the ridiculous notion to the back of his head – where it was swiftly forgotten – and got back to his calibrations.

_I guess some things are just better left unsaid._


	3. Sidonis

**A/N: Wow, this was so much easier than I originally thought it would be to write (mind you, it's also much shorter than anticipated). I'm very happy with the way this went; which of course in turn means I'm probably going to get a flurry of people telling me that they don't like it. Ahh well, such is life :) **

**Only trouble now is it's careened slightly off course, so I have no idea how I'm going to follow it up!  
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* * *

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Archangel was back; with that first fleeting glimpse of Harkin, Garrus had become so involved, so obsessed, with his hunt he had recessed back to the shell of a man Shepard had met on Omega.

_"Harkin's a bloody menace. We shouldn't have just let him go. He deserved to be punished."_

In that moment, Shepard knew she despised Archangel.

_"I'm getting a little worried about you Garrus. You were pretty hard on Harkin."_

_"You don't think he deserved it?"_

_"It's just not like you." _

He thought that the universe was a fair place. He thought that injustice was some horrible phenomenon which would always magically right itself. He thought if it didn't, it was his job, and his job alone, to fix it. She'd wanted to shake him. What part of her death was fair? What part of waking up in a strange place after suffocating cold and alone in deep space was fair? Was what happened on Horizon fair, Garrus?

_"What do you want from me, Shepard?"_

What did she want? She wanted Archangel to go away. She wanted her friend back.

_"What would you do if someone betrayed you?"_

_ "I'm not sure, but I wouldn't let it change me."_

_"I would have said the same thing before it happened to me."_

So what; since when did that mean it was suddenly okay to give up? Sidonis had won: He could shoot him twenty times over and Garrus would go on blaming himself for what happened. Ten men would still be dead. All that would change was that a wrong somewhere in the universe would be righted; paid for with a life.

Was that really all he cared about?

_ "Who's going to bring Sidonis to justice if I don't? Nobody else knows what he's done. Nobody else cares. I don't see any other option."_

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

_"Let me talk to him."_

And now she was walking over towards Sidonis.

_"Talk all you want, but it won't change my mind. I don't care what his reasons were, he screwed us... he deserves to die."_

She lifted her arm and made signal for him to come over.

_"I appreciate your concern... but I'm not you."_

_I'm not you_; those three words which had stung the most. The old Garrus had looked up to her; she was his role model, a shining example of justice in the galaxy. She'd been the first person he'd told about reapplying for spectre training: No, she'd been the _reason_ he reapplied for spectre training. Did all of that mean absolutely nothing to him now?

Sidonis stood up and started to walk towards them.

Harkin was right, the Terminus had changed Garrus. It had changed _them_.

"Let's get this over with."

Sidonis; was that really him? He seemed so... normal; a Turian she would have gladly passed by on the street on any other day.

But not today.

"Listen Sidonis, I'm here to help you."

What the hell did she care if this pitiful excuse for a Turian lived or died; this bastard was responsible for what happened to Garrus and yet he still couldn't even manage to make eye contact with her. So why did she felt so sick to the pit of her stomach? Would condoning Archangel's behaviour by allowing Sidonis to die necessarily make it right?

Or rather, would Garrus ever forgive her if she let him get away?

"Don't ever say that name aloud."

"I'm a friend of Garrus'. He wants you dead, but I'm hoping that's not necessary."

"Garrus? Is this some kind of joke...?"

"Damn it Shepard, if he moves I'm taking the shot."

"You're not kidding are you? Screw this; I'm not sticking around to find out, tell Garrus I had my own problems."

Shepard was shocked: Was that all he had to say on why ten men were lying prematurely dead in Omega? It was because he 'had his own problems' he left that _mess _behind for Garrus to clean up? Sidonis turned to walk away, and for the first time she saw Archangel: Months of camaraderie cut short by betrayal; a Turian standing alone in an empty, blood splattered apartment, not even caring as the bullets flew past his head.

She didn't know what to do: Part of her was still screaming at her to stop him, to not let Archangel win; part of her was slowly beginning to understand.

Sidonis walked further and further out of reach.

She realised had to act, not for herself, but for Garrus: Maybe one day he would truly understand, maybe one day he would thank her.

And maybe one day she would be able to forgive herself.

She let Sidonis walk away to his death.

* * *

Sidonis was right where Garrus wanted him: In scope.

Rage coursed through his veins; his talon protectively squeezed the trigger. Sidonis dies. Today.

_"Let me talk to him."_

What is there that could possibly be said? _I'm sorry_; as if two meaningless sounds were going to suddenly make it all better. Words won't bring them back to life, Shepard.

"All right. There he is... wave him over and keep talking."

_"This isn't you either."_

_"Really? I've always hated injustice, the thought that Sidonis could get away with this. Why should he go on living while ten good men lie in unmarked graves?"_

It was ironic he was standing here; he'd dedicated his life to fighting injustice and yet all he'd gained from it so far was kick in the teeth after kick in the teeth. He'd tried fighting by the rules, he'd tried exempt from the rules; he'd even tried in a place where rules had no meaning. Each time, it all collapsed out from under him, so why was he even bothering?

Shepard: That last straw he'd so desperately clutched to on the Citadel three years ago. She'd always been there for him.

She was there for him now, wasn't she?

"You're in my shot. Move to the side."

Shepard did not move.

"Listen Sidonis, I'm here to help you."

What the hell was she playing at? Didn't she understand what this meant to him? What it meant to the ten men he owed this much to?

"I'm a friend of Garrus'. He wants you dead, but I'm hoping that's not necessary."

"Garrus? Is this some kind of joke...?"

_Yeah, everything from Omega to now has all been a big, merry parade Sidonis; trust me, you'll really be laughing when there's a bullet flying through your head. _

Now _move_ Shepard.

Shepard continued to stand there.

Fine then, she could have it her way.

"Damn it Shepard, if he moves I'm taking the shot."

"You're not kidding are you? Screw this; I'm not sticking around to find out, tell Garrus I had my own problems."

Sidonis turned to walk away; it was now or never.

1 second. She made absolutely no attempt to stop him...

2 seconds. He lined him up in his sights...

3 seconds. She turned away from Sidonis, bowing her head slightly...

4 seconds. He held his breath...

The shot tore through the air. Sidonis crumpled to his knees. Shepard turned her head towards where he was still standing.

Garrus closed his eyes and breathed in the moment.

"Betrayal repaid Sidonis."


	4. Proposition

**A/N: It's been almost 2 months... I'm a bad author... (using the term 'author' loosely here of course).**

**I've gone for a slightly different literary style this time, as well as taking a *slight* risk with the story. You'll either hate it, love it or fall somewhere in the middle. And that's all I'm saying for now.**

Shepard staggered out of the medical bay.

All this time she was being stupid: Justice was his whore.

Whatever made her think she could compete?

_"To the people we care for..."_

_"May we never take them for granted."_

The world span around her. Sweet nothings and I love you. It's irrelevant with a crew; they only ever wind up dying in the end anyway.

They only ever wind up leaving you.

Not understanding.

_Dr Chakwas eyes glazed over with nostalgia._

__

_"Ah, Jenkins... soldiers like him make the Alliance great."_

One thing had been important on that night so long ago: She'd been lonely, Jenkins had been there.

In the end there was only one thing which really mattered.

She should have never let herself forget it.

She took the first few wobbly, drunken steps towards the main battery.

She'd freed him from his guilt, but at what cost? There would always be that one day they would fight over one criminal. That one day she would allow them to escape.

That one day she would lose him forever.

She almost stumbled forwards as she entered the room.

"Have you got a minute?" she was trying desperately to hide any slur in her voice.

"Sure just killing time anyway. I wanted to thank you again for your help with Sidonis, whatever happens with the Collectors or the Reapers, or whoever else comes after us, I know you'll get the job done."

A sickly, sweet smile spread across her face.

"I couldn't do this without you Garrus,"

"Sure you could. Not as stylishly of course."

The room began to spin again; she walked over to the crate to sit down.

"It's strange going into a suicide mission on a human ship. Your people don't prepare for high risk operations the way Turians do."

_Oh this should be good._

"How do Turian crews get ready for high risk missions?"

"With violence usually: Turian ships have more operational discipline than your Alliance, but fewer personal restrictions. Our commanders run us tight, and they know we need to blow off steam. Turian ships have training rooms for exercise, combat sims, even full contact sparring. Whatever lets people work off stress."

"You mean Turian ships have crewmen fighting eachother before a mission?"

"It's supervised of course. Nobody's going to risk an injury which interferes with the mission. And it's a good way to settle grudges amicably."

Garrus began to pace the room.

"I remember right before one mission, we were about to hit a Batarian pirate squad. Very Risky."

He turned to face Shepard.

"This recon scout and I had been at eachother's throats. Nerves mostly. She suggested we settle it in the ring."

"I assume you took her down gently?"

_Always the gentleman._

"Actually, she and I were the top ranked hand-to-hand specialists on the ship. I had reach, but she had flexibility."

He began to pace again.

"It was brutal, after nine rounds the judge called it a draw. There were a lot of unhappy betters in the training room."

Garrus awkwardly turned his face away from Shepard.

"We, ah, ended up holding a tiebreaker in her quarters. I had reach, but she had flexibility. More than one way to work off stress I guess."

Shepard shook her head at his little story; it seems he plays that game too.

"It sounds like your carrying some tension. Maybe I could help you get rid of it?"

_After all, you're deluded for ever thinking that it could work. _

"I, uh, didn't think you'd feel like sparring Commander."

She should just have her fun with him now and move on, just like with Jenkins.

Just like with Kaiden.

"What if we skipped right to the tiebreaker?"

"We could test your reach..."

Shepard strode over to Garrus computer and gave him her most seductive smile.

"...and my flexibility."

* * *

_Excuse me, but would you care to repeat that Commander? I think I may have misheard you. _

_Are you feeling okay Commander?_

_Are you absolutely sure that you don't want to spar, Commander?_

"Oh, I didn't..."

_Didn't what? Didn't realise what she meant? Didn't think she was interested in Turians? _

_Didn't think she could possibly be interested in me?_

_"_Huh. Never knew you had a weakness for men with scars."

Garrus eyed the Commander; she was still leaning against his computer, her hip jutted at a slightly cocky angle. Waiting for her answer.

He tried to find something attractive to him in her alien form; just one thing was all he needed to justify what his mind was already screaming at him...

He found nothing.

Shepard was strong, inspirational and a good leader... everything he aspired to and everything he wasn't.

Should it really matter?

"Well, why the hell not? There's nobody in this galaxy I respect more than you and if we can figure out a way to make it work, then..."

He noticed the smile which had crept across her lips and his heart skipped a beat.

"...yeah. Definitely."

He'd said it. His heart pounded in his chest; he waited for the big smirk to appear, for her to declare it was a joke...

She didn't. Calmly, she walked straight past him and out of the room, making sure to brush him gently with her hand in a _very_ inappropriate place as she did so.

Something told Garrus he wasn't going to get much work done tonight.


	5. Doubts

**A/N: And you all patiently all waited two months and what did I give you? Something which wasn't really worth waiting two months for. Yeah, I suck. Hopefully this will help make up for it ^^**

It is always darkest before the dawn and nowhere is this truer than in the case of intoxication.

Shepard's stomach lurched; she was lying down on her bed, feeling distraught and hollow. She had what she wanted; shouldn't she be allowed to feel happy for herself? Could it just be first time nerves?

It wasn't like she'd ever tried anything like this with a Turian before.

_"Yeah... definitely." _

Shepard remembered the happy expression on his face as he said it and her stomach flipped. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blot it out.

This definitely wasn't a case of first-time nerves.

Jenkins, Kaiden and everyone else, all she could remember of them was sex: She beckoned, they came. Had any of them looked at her like that before? She turned over on her bed: It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

She was supposed to beckon, he was supposed to come. Nothing more and nothing less, just like always.

But the way he was looking at her... he wasn't eying her up like a piece of meat in a shop window; eyeing her up like she was already so used to. But was what he was looking at her with necessarily any better? Happiness was there, certainly; however, there was also a sense that he was holding her up like a revered paragon from the heavens, like she could play no foul in his eyes. A shiver ran down her spine; she wasn't sure she liked that part of his expression. Everywhere she turned beings of all species looked at her in that same way, like the Saviour of the Citadel had floated down from the skies to solve all their problems personally: any second all of them could turn on her, just like the council did, and all it needed to do was suit them. Could she really trust Garrus in that way, especially with his son-of-a-bitch alter ego Archangel hanging over them?

But, as always, there were two sides to that coin. For the first time she knew that sex wasn't enough; the look on his face had confirmed that. She wanted more, but did she necessarily need it? She'd pursued a half-hearted relationship with Kaiden on the original Normandy because it had seemed the right thing to do and had even pretended to care when she met him again on Horizon for much the same reason. When she received a half-assed apology email from him she'd completely ignored it because, quite frankly, she couldn't be bothered with 'the right thing to do' anymore. Now she wasn't sure that there was even such a thing; had it ever been there or was it just a fabrication of her wild imagination? Something to help ease the regret from every bad decision she had ever made.

Bad decisions, those she had made plenty of. It was her call: Ashley or Kaiden. Had she allowed the promise of a night together blur her decision? _No_ her mind had rationalized; Kaiden was the higher ranked officer, he was the highest priority. But what would her head say to her if she made the wrong decision with Garrus?

_Well, here you are back in the same position as always. Betrayed, hurt. Congratulations. _

_Are you really happy now that you've gotten what you wanted? Honestly? Or are you just kidding yourself, yet again._

It seemed either way she was damned.

Pain jolted through her head, her stomach gave another stabbing lurch. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift off...

[...]

She was standing alone on a beach somewhere; the sea breeze cascaded around her, pushing the light fabric of her dress around her body. She could feel cool sea water lapping around her ankles and the gently setting sun warming her shoulders, the serene call of birds cried out to her in the distance and the deep blue of the ocean seemed to stretch out for all eternity.

It seemed she'd recreated her own personal hell: Virmirie.

"Why did you do it Shepard?"

Ashley was walking up to her from down the beach, having come apparently from nowhere. She too was wearing a light, summer dress which flapped about helplessly in the breeze.

"Ashley, what are you talking about? Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Why did you do it Shepard?"

"Don't you remember? You gave up your life – sacrificed yourself – in order to stop Saren."

"Why me? Why not Kaiden?"

"You volunteered-"

"Why? You could have come back, gotten me, gotten him. Simple."

"There wasn't time! Besides, Kai- Lieutenant Alenko was overwhelmed-"

"Lieutenant Alenko? Really? You've changed your tune."

"If I'd have left him there any longer it would have been _suicide_-"

She snorted. "Suicide? You mean like the time when you left me here with absolutely nothing for company except a live atomic bomb and a fistful of geth!" Ashley's glare became menacing "I want to know _why._"

Shepard swallowed "_Kaiden _is the higher ranking officer, Alliance protocol states-"

"Oh, please spare me the _crap _already_. _I saw the way you looked at your little toy boy back on the Normandy. Everyone did. Tell me something, did he really ever mean anything to you? Was he worth it?"

"No I-"

"Is he worth it now that he's sold you out for a promotion in the military? You act so high and mighty, as though men are purely things for you to use and throw away, when in actual fact _he_ was the one doing the using. You think he'd be where he is without you?"

"That's not true-"

"Do you think he'd even be _alive _right now without you? Just think; if the great Commander Shepard turned out male I could have used my feminine wiles on him and damn well _lived!_"

"Ashley..."

"What?"

"Your dress is on fire."

The fire flicked up from the hem of her dress, burning her arm.

"I'm sorry, but it looks like times up for me. And it's been so soon too." Her voice was thick but she still managed to wink at Shepard. "Tick tock, bombs about to go off."

Ashley's entire form became engulfed in flames; she seemed to burn away into the air.

Shepard grasped at where Ashley was just standing; she felt her knees buckle out from under her. She kneeled on the white sand, helpless, as the raw sobs forced their way out of her throat.

"Shhh, it's okay."

A pair of arms scooped her up into a tight embrace.

"Ashey- She was here, but now she's was gone-"

Shepard buried her face into Garrus' armour.

"Listen," he held onto her slightly tighter "you made a very hard decision, one which _none_ of us wanted to make."

"I made a horrible mistake, and now Ashley _hates_ me."

"Ashley doesn't hate you. She died a hero's death, one she was prepared for when she signed up to help fight Saren. One which we _all_ were. There was no right choice between Kaiden and Ashley; you did what you had to do. Nobody expected any less of you, nobody expected anymore of you."

"But Kaiden- Why am I such a bitch? No wonder no one ever wants me."

"Shepard," He pulled back and held her face in his hand, wiping away some of her tears "that's complete and utter crap and you know it."

She looked up at his face clearly for the first time.

"Garrus, your scar, it's gone..."

"What scar?"

"There's a gunship, and you're on the ground and I'm scared out of my mind for losing you again-"

"But I'm standing here now aren't I?" He let go of her face "Listen, I have to go now Shepard. We may not see each other for awhile, but I need you to promise me one thing before I can leave."

"I don't want you to leave."

"I have to, but we will cross paths again, I promise. And when we do, I will need you more than anything else in this Galaxy. Please be there for me, no matter what?"

"...I promise."

He turned and started to walk away.

"Wait! Can I ask you one thing before you leave?"

"Yes?"

"Where are you going?"

He continued to walk.

"Omega. Where else?"

Garrus disappeared into the horizon and Shepard was left standing alone again, the sun had almost set and a cold wind had set in around the area. Slowly she began to walk into the sea, she didn't know how far she was going to walk, or where for the matter, but she was going to find her way back into the Normady, no matter what...

Shepard woke up in a cold sweat. Her head pounded and every muscle in her body ached. She swung her legs out of bed, and walked into her bathroom. Leaning against the sink, she looked at her reflection: Her hair clumped around her head in a complete mess, her eyes were red and lined with dark circles, and her face was pale and sallow. She looked like complete and utter crap.

_"That's complete and utter crap and you know it."_

Shepard turned around and sank down into the floor of the bathroom. She remembered Ashley's harsh words, feeling sick and disgusted with herself, the warm embrace of a friend...

_"Be there for me, no matter what."_

_"I promise."_

Garrus. He needed her far more than he would ever let on: In her anger at Sidonis - her anger at Archangel - had she even stopped to think about him? The Garrus she had known lived in a bubble where justice was always served; the thought that Sidonis was wandering around unpunished for his crime nearly destroyed him. Why did it take a stupid, surreal dream for her to realise that?

Had she ever thought about what she wanted when all of this was over? She sighed; honestly, she knew that they were all screwed. She wasn't humanities golden girl, nor was she anymore capable of the miracle it would require to get everyone out of this mess alive than the next person. Still, it wouldn't hurt to close her eyes and imagine a galaxy free of the reapers, even if it was just for a fleeting second...

The sun was set high in the sky and the hot sand warmed the balls of her feet. She breathed in the salty, sea air; there was absolutely nothing here to worry about. She could stand here blissfully for all of eternity and watch time pass by along with the waxing and waning of the tide. She felt a pair of familiar arms wrap herself around her from behind.

Slowly, she placed her hand on his cool wrist and breathed in the moment. In the end maybe she and Garrus wouldn't work out, but that didn't mean it wasn't worth trying. For his sake and for hers, to see where it went.

Just this once.

* * *

The ice cold barrel of the gun pressed across Garrus' temple. One little squeeze, that would be all it would take. One little push and all of this would be over. His mistakes would be scourged off of the face of existence once and for all. He wouldn't have to live with the guilt any longer.

Only one person would know. And that person is out there somewhere, unpunished. Nobody would know what he's done. Garrus laughed at the idea; it almost seemed a fair price to pay for a clean and tidy end. Give up on all his principles, everything he'd ever believed in, all just so that he could end things on his terms. Like the pathetic coward he was.

He ran his finger down the smooth curve of the trigger. No need to hurry, he was a doomed man but he had all of the time in the world. There was nothing anybody could do to him anymore. Sidonis' laughter rang through his head. He held the gun slightly more firmly in his grasp. He could do it, all he needed to do was count to three...

He inhaled deeply.

Count to three and that _bastard _will get away scott free...

The gun clattered to the ground, he couldn't go through with it. He couldn't go without punishing Sidonis first; he knew owed that much to his men. He was going to fight his way out of here, track him down and make damn well sure he suffered. Then... then he didn't know. The best days of his life on the Normandy had already passed him, there was now nothing left for him to do. He had failed at everything he'd ever tried; the only thing he'd ever achieved at, the only thing he had been happy doing, had gone up in flames. Maybe he'd take the gun with him when he left...

Garrus jolted awake; he'd fallen asleep in the main battery again.

Damn it, hadn't he promised it to himself that he wouldn't think about it any longer? Garrus smacked his fist into the main computer. He isn't worth it, he's gone now, he got what he deserved; those where the words which spiralled repeatedly through his mind every day. But equally so, he shouldn't even be alive right now either: He didn't deserve it.

He should have killed himself when he had the chance, he should have been butchered by mercenaries. Somehow, against all odds, he was still standing here.

Incredibly she had been standing here too, only mere hours ago.

And even more so the words she had uttered so casually...

_"We can test your reach... and my flexibility."_

What the hell was running through Shepard's mind when she said that? Didn't she realise he was a Turian? That they weren't compatible? That neither of them had any idea to _work_ this; oh Spirits, he had absolutely no idea what the hell he was supposed with a human of all things. And yet a part of him still wanted this: He didn't love Shepard, he wasn't even remotely attracted to her, true, but he respected her. She was the only person he could rely on, the only person he could trust. He wanted to make her happy; he wanted them to be happy together, even if it were only for a few short, fleeting moments.

Dying for Shepard's suicidal cause... Should he be worried since it didn't bother him? Now that Sidonis was gone he felt he owed nothing to the world, nothing but to stand at Shepard's side for as long as she needed him. There was no place left for him to go except the Normandy; his life back on Palaven... he didn't like to think about that. He wanted to forget; he was still a coward, still running away from his problems as always. Would Shepard still be interested if she knew that about him?

And even if they did 'take off', where exactly would this thing go? Would they do this _thing_ and would that just be that? Shepard probably just wanted to have her fun now before it was too late, maybe she had just been harbouring a secret Turian fetish all along and realised this was her last chance at living it out. Perhaps not: If Shepard wanted a Turian she could walk out anytime she damn well pleased and go get one. Because that's exactly the kind of woman she was.

Garrus felt his chest tighten. That _was_ who Shepard was; she was used to being swept off her feet by dozens of suitors every week. She was probably expecting a hugely romantic evening with him where he said flattering things, flirted and made her both blush and giggle devilishly at the same time. How exactly did humans flirt anyway? What if he inadvertently said something which offended her culture? What if something went wrong when they were... oh spirits, the thought alone made him inwardly blush. What if he hurt her? What if she changed her mind at the very last second because he wasn't good enough? Then things would be weird between them and he'd ruined just about the only friendship he has left with only himself to blame. Why had he agreed? Why had it ever seemed like such a good idea to him? All the endless possibilities of how things could go wrong, all just so they could try to grasp at a thin film of happiness, almost as though it was the sun out peeking out from behind dense clouds. He had to call it off; he couldn't risk losing her over something so _primal_. Shepard didn't need him, she needed something familiar. Something like Jacob, something she understood. As for him? He didn't need anyone; he was resigned to spend the rest of his life alone. Everything he touched - everything he got close to - always went horribly wrong. He was being painfully naive if he thought this would be any different.

His heart gave a painful twinge. It would hurt, but he would get through it. He had to do it so he could be there for Shepard when she needed him the most. Besides, she deserved better than him. She deserved someone she could have a future with, not some deadbeat vigilante.

In the end, she deserved the right thing.


End file.
